


An Answer

by IntrovertedWife



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Healing, Heartache, Hope, Loss, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 08:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14516544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntrovertedWife/pseuds/IntrovertedWife
Summary: A short Solasmance drabble where Solas goes looking for an answer to the question that’d never leave him. NSWF, but nowhere near as explicit as I usually get.





	An Answer

Solas’ eyes fluttered open, his body rising from the desolate ground while the impossible happened. Even as his mind denied it, his heart recognized the silhouette tugging away his tent’s door and sliding inside.

“Inquisitor,” he gasped, shaken from his errant slumber as she…how could she be here after all this time?

“Shh,” her gracious hand reached through the air, barely glancing against his lips, “Vhenan.”

He had much to explain, to confess to her – his heart heavy with the full truth. It almost slipped his lips in the grove, his old world nearly physical around them. But to watch her eyes turn cold to him, to lose all respect from her. He, of all people, could not go on without that. So he chose anger instead. Loss. Hate over the far more debilitating fear his past would uncover.

How was she here after his betrayal? How was this possible?

The night shifted around her, fading to reveal her perfect skin freed of the marks of bondage. Her hand pierced through the lonely air, warm fingers curling to his cold jaw. Solas’ ever watching eyes closed tight, his very being leaning into that one touch. “Ir abelas, ma vhenan,” he whispered the words forever locked upon his tongue. It was he who walked away, he who could not own his mistakes while in the corona of her being.

“I know,” she said. Solas whipped his head up in surprise only to fall into her unending eyes. Perfect. There is no gemstone in this thedas that could compare. She crossed the space between them, her arms entwining around his chest as she pressed her lips to his ear. “Be with me, Solas.”

“You do not know what you ask,” he shook his head even as a thrill took control of his spine. Even as the coward inside the Dread Wolf tried to scamper away, his hands enveloped around her lithe body – fulfilling every dream he dared have since Haven.

Her teeth grazed against his earlobe, Solas tipping his head back in exquisite agony. He hungered for her, for all of her in every way she’d give, but he didn’t deserve her either. It wasn’t right of him to ask.

A warm breath twirled through his ear, her words pregnant with need, “I know you.”

Their lips locked in a kiss of more hunger than he’d ever known in his lifetime. She tasted of honeysuckle and clover, of a spring meadow by a crystal lake. Of his long held denial dripping through his fingers, freeing him from his imposed shackles. With each thrum of her hot tongue, he forgot himself. Why did he hold himself apart from her? From this?

Solas’ hands, no longer bound by the chasteness he chose, ripped apart her leathers. The human garments she wore day in and day out while trying to correct his mistake tumbled to the ground. By the glow of an impossible light, Solas stared at what he could only picture in his mind’s eye.

“You are,” he brushed his forehead to hers, “more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

Her lips, glistening from his kisses, lifted at the edge. It was a smile all her own, one of accomplishment, of prestige, of surprising a jaded man into believing beauty was still possible in this dead world. He would have confessed the truth, all of it for her smile, dropped to his knees and begged for her forgiveness.

“Be with me, Solas,” her words echoed themselves. She was beautiful the way the moonlight off an assassin’s blade is beautiful. More striking than the glint of sun rays through the forest glenn landing thrush upon a halla’swintery coat. Powerful. Strong. Dangerous.

And not only to her enemies.

“I can deny it no longer,” he gasped, his hands cupping the pert breasts he tried to put from his mind. Her lips claimed his, his Vhenan’s hands stripping away every fur he decorated over his body. He treated them like mantles of war, trophies to declare himself worthy of this coming fight. But in his love’s hands they were proven for the truth – childish ribbons worn by a man who believed he had nothing to lose.

She paused, her palms parting over the ivory sweater. Each caress sparked his skin, the fire emanating from the very center of his being. This was how she met him, how she saw him. A lone elf wandering the woods, a scholar, a quiet man who could not keep his eyes off of her.

It was how she knew him.

It was how he wanted her to always know him.

“Emma sa lath,” his tongue was freed along with his mind. With eyes closed and heart open, Solas brushed his forehead to hers while whispering, “Know me, Vhenan. Know all of me.”

“Gladly,” she smiled.

He feared to be naked around her, that she’d read upon his stripped flesh all the buried secrets. But his Vhenan drew her succulent lips to each battle scar fought in a war millennia past. Her fingers kneaded into muscles forged in the fights of her ancient ancestors. Not once did she blink, not once did she ask.

Solas prided himself on being patient when called for, slow to act in all matters. But, in that moment – after years of denial – he could hold no more back. Greedily ripping the last of her clothes off, he paused for a breath above her pristine body. There were no scars of war, no blemishes from fire or ice. No burns of lightning to deform her flesh.

She was perfect.

Drawing her legs against his waist, her taut thighs gliding against his sinewy hips, he entered her. The first thrust caused a gasp to escape from her throat – the same sound she made when he stepped away in the grove. When he proved to be too much of a coward to live up to what she deserved.

He would not make the same mistake twice.

Fingers digging into her glorious backside, Solas increased his tempo. The gasps in his love’s throat changed, panting not in pain but ecstasy. She drew her hands to his cheeks, pulling herself to him for a kiss. He tried to return it, to focus on anything but the fire threatening to consume him whole, but her lips kept slipping away. His love’s pants of pleasure dashed down his throat, warming his soul.

Aching for both release and connection, Solas tipped her down upon the bed of his wolf pelts. Her hair spilled out like a halo, every thrust of his body into hers causing her breasts to bounce, her skin to glisten like the fade was once again inside them all.

“My love,” he gasped, feeling himself step to the edge. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” her moans entwined with his, both rocking back and forth to the pleasure of their bodies. “And,” tears burst in her perfect eyes, “I forgive you.”

His crescendo tipped into an explosion, Solas’ head bowed in recompense even as he filled her. She forgave him. She shouldn’t, there was none in this world who would. But…she did. She could.

Rising from the bed, her arms enveloped Solas’ weary brow. How long did he carry it bent with the souls of elves he tried to free and even more that he damned? The crown of bricks was going to crush him one day.

“Be with me,” she repeated a third time. Her hot lips pressed to his head, palms raising his stricken face. She had to see the truth now. There was nothing left for Solas to hide behind, no half lies and subterfuge. It was all of him before her: the young elf and scholar who talked to spirits. The warrior who stood up against the gods themselves. The traitor that destroyed Arlathan.

“Come back with me.” She didn’t run from him, didn’t hurl him aside in hatred and fear. She wanted him.

She forgave him.

“Solas…”

Abandon his plan, live with her. Love her. Why was he destined to carry the souls of the dead in his heart? He tried to save them, he did what he could. Let someone else carry the flame. Let the burden fall elsewhere.

Lifting his head, his eyes staring directly into her unending depths, he said, “I…”

Solas’ eyes fluttered open and he rose alone inside of his tent. There was no one else, there would never be anyone else. His arms enveloped himself, trying to preserve the vanishing heat of her body. Her taste drifted on his tongue, her meadowy scent clinging to the cold wind. He could have had her, in both the physical and emotional sense. And it would have been…

“Thank you, Cole,” he whispered to the wind. The spirit was lurking, watching, but unable to appear here. Solas feared what Cole, in his need to heal, might reveal to those in Skyhold. To one in particular.

Did it help? floated through Solas’ mind.

Even with his path set, his steps shored, the question would not leave him. What if he returned to her arms? What if he had not left at all? What if there was still a chance to be with her?

He had to know the answer.

“Yes,” Solas spoke aloud. His fingers glanced over his lip, a glisten upon the tip, as if it was wet from her kiss. “I have my answer.”

She doesn’t.

“She will soon,” Solas promised to his old friend. Rising from his tent, Solas gazed across the small army at his disposal, eluvian glittering in preparation of what was to come.

“Fen'Harel,” a blonde woman leapt to her feet, summoning the others. “What are your orders?”

She’d take him back. As foolish as it sounded, as dangerous as it could be, she’d let him toss off his mantle. Disrobe the title of god and become what he always ached to be – a man in love with a woman.

In truth, Solas always knew the answer. He merely hoped, for her sake, that he was wrong.

“Lieutenant, we attack the Qunari at dawn.” Solas was dead, he died when his orb cracked in half. When the weak fool ran from the only chance at happiness he could have ever had. Fen'Harel gazed over his followers, “It’s time to put our plan into motion.”


End file.
